


Two in a Bed

by SilverLynxx



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: F3 Years, Launt, M/M, Pre-Nurburgring, Rathunt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx/pseuds/SilverLynxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having lost almost everything to debt, Niki turns to James who is happy to help. He's just unaware he has the most uncomfortable couch in existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two in a Bed

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a pointless little drabble to get me back into the swing of writing, instead it turned into a pointless long-ass oneshot. I wanted to write and update more frequently over the summer, but I think I've lost my flow so I'm a bit dubious as to the quality of this fic, but I hope you enjoy none the less :)

It’s while lying in the darkness of James Hunt’s living room at four in the morning that Niki finds himself thinking. The only sound to be heard in the silence is the quiet snuffling from the single bedroom, but it does little to disrupt Niki’s thoughts as he mulls over his present situation.

Being holed up in James’ little London flat with nowhere to go wasn’t where he’d hoped to find himself some months ago, yet it was the only logical conclusion to his recent spate of misfortune; severe debt, lack of sponsorship, poor track performance, financial excommunication from his family, and nothing to return to in Austria. Had he not swallowed his pride and sought out James with all his worldly possessions stuffed into a duffel bag at his feet, he very well could have ended up on the street, and wouldn’t that have been the highlight of Niki’s fruitless efforts to break into Formula1?

A car turns and trundles noisily down the street outside and it’s enough to distract Niki as he follows the glare of the headlights across the ceiling. He tilts his head towards the window as the din grows faint, and he rubs his eyes with an irritable sigh when the silence becomes deafening.

Suddenly James grunts at an obnoxious volume in his sleep and Niki can help but snort in amusement at the anomaly that is his rival come friend; who for all intents and purposes could have turned Niki away and eliminated him as competition on the track, perhaps for good. Instead he’d hauled the downbeat Austrian into his flat without a second thought and immediately carved a little nook for Niki into his everyday life, without once asking for anything in return.

Finally feeling the time catch up with him, the Austrian rolls over with some muttered complaints as his joints click in protest. One thing he couldn’t appreciate was that James owned the most uncomfortably goddamn couch in existence.

 

\-----------------------

 

“Are you ok there, Ratty?” James asks, clunking an old and chipped mug full of coffee onto the table.

“Don’t call me that, and I’m fine,” Niki snipes back, giving the newspaper he’s reading a firm rustle. James raises his eyebrows at that.

“Ah, then you might want to tell your face.”

The Brit grins into cup, and his remark earns him a scowl and a middle-finger salute.

James chuckles as he moves across the room and sits on the sliver of a windowsill, cradling his mug in his hands as he watches the other man sat at his tiny excuse of a breakfast table.

Niki, despite his reputation, wasn’t actually that much of a grump. Aloof and demanding certainly, but he smiled as much as anyone else, and countered James’ light hearted jabs at his teeth, his unruly curls, and his accent with good humour.

But grumpy was really the only way to describe the Austrian’s recent demeanour, and it was puzzling. If losing nearly everything to debt hadn’t gotten Niki into such a state, he’s curious to know what could have. But for the moment, taking in Niki’s haggard appearance, James can only chalk it up to stress.

 

\-----------------------

 

Pulling the handbrake to secure the car, James kills the lights and then the engine of his Mini before grinning at Niki as people wander and topple past the car.  
  
“Well, here we are!”

Niki rubs the back of his neck with a grimace, peering out the window with a notable lack of enthusiasm. “And where is ‘here’, exactly?”

“Well if I’ve timed it correctly, which I have, a rather important lower division race finished an hour ago, which means the after-party will now be in full swing,” James beams. “Come along, Ratty, cheap booze and eager women await us!”

Niki sighs heavily but reluctantly opens the car door. He knows he won’t get any peace from the Brit unless he at least appears to cooperate, but after wading into the crowd of already drunk party-goers, Niki can’t quite muster up the energy to locate the ‘eager women’ after James puts a beer in his hand.

In a haze of dancing, drinking, and casually necking with whichever girl was grinding against him at the time, four hours seem to fly by. Grabbing Emma’s hand (or is it Susan?), with a half-empty bottle clutched in his other, James pulls her laughing towards his Mini as they stumble across the field that the campfires can’t quite fully illuminate.

He presses his conquest up against his car and they kiss hungrily, James’ free hand roaming up and down her side and rucking up her dress as her long fingers tug his hair and pull him closer. As he mouths her neck, Susan (Or Katie, he thinks) throws her head back with a loud and delightful sound. James fumbles for the door handle to take her home when he spots something already in the back which makes him stop short.

Katie writhes impatiently against him and tries to pull him in for another kiss, but James clears his throat and somewhat reluctantly untangles himself from her, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, darling, but I’m afraid I have to call it a night,”

“Oh, but James,” she pouts.

He swallows her complaints with one last kiss before he sends her away with a playful smack to the arse. Katie (possibly Lucy) smiles coyly over her shoulder as she saunters away, and James sighs as he tosses his bottle aside and looks through the window at Niki out cold in the backseat.

-

“Come on, Niki, move your arse,” James grunts.

Niki, with his arm thrown over James’ shoulders, stumbles blearily up the stairs, barely conscious and leaving James to support the majority of his weight. Which hadn’t been too bad, until the third flight of stairs. Finally nudging open the door, James dumps his cargo onto the couch and goes to retrieve a beer from the fridge as a reward while Niki grunts and rolls over.

He’s just lifting the neck to his lips when Niki moves again, and by the time he’s taken several gulps Niki has tossed and turned multiple times. Considering on the drive back the Austrian hadn’t moved once, and James had had to prod him just to make sure he was still alive, this strikes him as odd. But deciding he is too drunk for meaningful contemplation, James instead removes Niki’s shoes for him, flicks off the light, and retires to bed with his drink in hand.

Despite the intention to sleep, he still finds himself awake several hours later, thinking.

 

\-----------------------

 

By the time James wakes up, Niki is already sat at the rickety old breakfast table nursing a coffee. James leans against the doorframe and watches as Niki obliviously goes from rolling his neck and shoulders, with a small cacophony of clicking joints, to rubbing his eyes and finally settling with his elbow propped on the table and head in hand.

He still looks like death warmed over, and after an impromptu period of reflection James is confident he knows the partial culprit of Niki’s ill-temper.

“Good morning,” James all but chirps as he saunters into the kitchen-nook and turns the stove on for a cuppa. Niki makes the smallest sound of acknowledgement that James almost doesn’t hear over the clinking of his mug on the counter. “How long have you been now, Niki?” he inquires innocently, and with his back to the Austrian James doesn’t see Niki tense at the question.

“Eight weeks.”

“That’s a long time to sleep on couch,” James hums thoughtfully, turning to lean against the counter as he takes a sip of tea. Niki straightens up and his sudden, carefully impassive expression takes the Bit by surprise. But he sounds weary when he speaks.

“James, do not play mind games with me; if you want me to leave just tell me so.”

“What? Christ Niki no, that’s not what I was trying to say!” he backpedals. Niki looks at him funny, as if wondering what else James could have possibly meant if he wasn’t throwing Niki out on his ear.

“I was trying to offer you my bed,” he amends, “Without me, obviously,” he adds with a laugh when Niki continues to stare at him looking slightly perplexed.

“You are giving me your bed?” the Austrian repeats slowly, making James smirk.

“Yeah, why not? Eight weeks is a long time on a couch, and if it makes you less of a miserable bastard I’m quite happy to make that sacrifice.”

James laughs and doesn’t quite manage to duck the tea towel thrown at his head, but it’s worth it to see Niki’s relieved smile.   

-

“You are sure you are ok giving me the bed?” Niki looks dubious, standing in the doorway to the bedroom in just a pair of pyjama bottoms as James potters about the living room in his boxers.

“For the last time Niki, yes. Now go to bed,” he shoos the man away and Niki shakes his head and disappears into the bedroom.

James’ room is a tip by Niki’s standards, with a few old bottles left by the bed and dirty articles of clothing spread across the floor. But as he toes past James’ racing uniform abandoned on the carpet and drops gratefully onto the plush double bed, Niki is for once disinclined to complain.

-

As soon as Niki disappears into the bedroom all James hears is the creak of the bedsprings and then silence, and he figures the man is out like a light. Glancing at the clock which reads 12.47am, he figures he may as well follow suit. The Brit puts his cup in the sink and flicks the light switch before padding to the couch and slumping down onto the cushions.

“Jesus Christ,” James mutters at once, rolling onto his side and then his front. He buries his head into one of the cushions but inevitably finds himself shifting again, wondering if Niki had secretly filled the sofa with gravel just to spite him. He tosses and turns for the better part of an hour, but after flipping the cushions and attempting to pound the unidentifiable lumps into a vaguely comfortable submission, James sits up in defeat.

“Fuck this,” the man mutters, standing up and rubbing the crick from his neck as he pads his way towards the bedroom, wondering how Niki had survived eight weeks on his couch without a single complaint. The fact the answer could very well be desperation was a sobering thought.

Passing through the open door James stops to see Niki sprawled facedown across the bed in a very un-Niki like manner, and he huffs lightly in amusement and saunters over.  
  
“Hey, Ratty. Ratty!”

“…m..hm…James? What the fuck do you want?” his words are slurred with sleep as he turns his head to squint up James, who doesn’t think he’s ever seen the Austrian look more adorable than he is bundled up in the duvet with his curls everywhere.

“Is that anyway to talk to your gracious host? Move over, that couch is bloody uncomfortable,” he prompts whilst climbing into the bed.

Niki mutters under his breath as he sits up and plants his feet on the floor. “You say that as if I don’t know,” he grumbles, standing up with a pillow under his arm and heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

Niki looks back, brow furrowed. “To the couch, asshole.”

James cocks his head, “I wasn’t making you leave, Niki, there’s plenty of room.” He gestures to the empty half of the bed to prove his point.

The Austrian looks both bemused and torn, glancing through the door towards the couch and then at the bed now occupied by probably the most frustrating, lascivious, honest man he’d ever met. After a moment’s deliberation the brunet sighs and returns to the comfort of the bed, unable to bear the couch for another night. He climbs back under the duvet and buries his head into the pillow.

But before he has a chance to fall back asleep, he rolls over and points warningly at his new bedmate.

“Stay on your side or I will kick you out of this bed …and you better not snore,” he adds for good measure, before promptly rolling back over.

James turns away as well, if only to muffle his laughter.

James had always known he was a snuggler, and had a tendency to seek out sources of heat, what he hadn’t expected was for Niki to be the same. It was really the only explanation for both of them being in the center of the bed with James’ arm around the smaller man and Niki’s head nestled into James’ shoulder.

At such a God forsaken hour of the morning James is too warm and comfortable to consider prying himself away, so instead he merely readjusts his grip on the peacefully sleeping Austrian and mentally kicks himself for not suggesting this solution weeks ago.


End file.
